


This Years Love

by gretaamyk



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk
Summary: Klaus meets someone at grief counselling, and he feels guilty with how fast he’s moved on from his last love. He just hopes that this one lasts.Request: Omg I just saw your post about writing for TUA. I wanna request an angsty Klaus x reader smut please 😳👉👈
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	This Years Love

Being the renaissance person I was, I was proficient in being fashionably late. Now was an exception and I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself… I was early. Though I couldn’t take credit, the chauffeur that I call my brother was the one that dropped me off. I tried to convince him to take me through the McDonalds drive through, but he went in his usual tangent about saving lives (blah blah blah) which led to me regretting saying anything at all.

I was so early, that I seemed to be the only one here. I found myself wandering around the clinic like I was one of the ghosts that persistently orbited around me like I could help them in any way. I couldn’t help him, how are they any different? That’s why I was here in the first place. But their blind faith in me, I somehow understood it and didn’t at the same time. Even though it was me, and that’s the part I’d never been able to wrap my head around, I was the only chance they had. For closure, for a connection, I was the only tether they had to life. That was the part I understood. I only wished that I had a tether too. 

Wait… I stopped in my tracks of the middle of the barren hallways. Wait! I get first pick of the donuts!

I immediately pivoted over my shoulder and broke into a sprint towards the counseling room because there was nothing I loved more than a mouth full of baked diabetes. I was expecting the room to be empty when I rushed in, which resulted in me almost crashing into a similarly tortured individual from my counselling group.

“Woah there, racecar,” She jumped as my brakes only stopped me a few inches away from her. 

“Shit!” I quickly jumped back and gripped onto the cold countertop, “Sorry…” I apologized, curling my fingers over the lip.

Y/n, I think her name was. It was weird how I struggled with her name, but I was so intimately acquainted with her grief. She was here after her sister passed away. She was the one that found her body. They looked almost identical, something that I knew, only because I saw her sister after the fact. She followed her here. The ghost asked me to tell her sister that she was sorry… but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to scare her. She was here to move on… and I needed to make sure she could.

I guess I was here to move on too. Grief counselling was good and it’s really important that it’s an option for people, I knew that. But I also knew that I coped with loss differently than most people… I was different than most people in general. I thought I would give it a shot now that I was sober… but honestly it would be a lot easier if I wasn’t. 

“Y/n,” she confirmed, pulling the coffee pot out of the machine and pouring the hot liquid into a disposable paper cup without leaving room for much cream and sugar. “Come on, Klaus, we’ve been grief counselling buddies for two weeks and you don’t know my name?”

“I know your name,” I straightened up my posture and tucked my arms neatly behind my back like a nervous kindergartener. “I just second guessed myself and decided to not say anything at all to avoid the potential embarrassment of getting it wrong.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed, putting the pot back and bringing the coffee up to her lips. She gestured her hand to the box of donuts on the counter, the shitty grocery store ones in the boring brown box. “Your preference?”

I squinted like it was a trick question. “Uh… a donut?”

“Which one?” She laughed.

“Oh,” I blushed, rubbing the back of my neck like it was killing me. “This one.” I stupidly responded, reaching out and grabbing the chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles. She laughed and picked out the same kind.

“Now that’s called taste,” she praised, taking a bite of her donut and licked up the Boston cream that oozed out when she pulled away. I blinked.

“Want some coffee?” She asked, putting the donut on a napkin.

I cleared my throat, “Please.”

She pulled out another paper cup from the dispenser and filled it up with black caffeine and handed it to me with a customer service smile that made her comparable to a Starbucks barista. I thanked her and looked into the cup. She left room for additives, but I hesitated. I felt the strange need to impress her, and I guess black coffee was the way I planned to do that. 

I brought the pungent drink to my lips and took a sip. It was way too hot and way too bitter for my taste. I held back the gag that was my natural reaction, and I swallowed. I pulled the cup away and Y/n didn’t seem to be particularly impressed, but noticed the ghost of a smile flicker quickly across her face, which was a win if you ask me.

I chased the drunk with a bite of the donut, the balance of bitter and sweet working almost surprisingly well.

“Okay, I gotta take a piss,” She said bluntly, “Can you hold onto this?” She asked, reaching her coffee out towards me.

“Oh!” I raised my eyebrows, “Um, yeah, of course!” I grabbed her drink and she smiled, patting me on the arm before walking away. 

“Thanks.”

She walked away into the corridor with the dingy bathrooms that never seem to be clean. I felt guilty… but I couldn’t help but watch her walk away. 

I heard a scoff from behind me, so I sighed and turned around. It was my very emo brother, leaning on the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Catching feelings at grief counselling for your ex. Wow.” He condescended. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I didn’t have time for this today. Well I did, but I didn’t have the energy to accept that he had a point. It wasn’t fair to Dave. I set my coffee on the counter and opened it back up, topping it off with some cream and sugar.

“Who said anything about feelings, you dick?” I mumbled, grabbing a wooden stir stick and mixing it together until the dark roast was light like caramel.

“Have some coffee with your sugar.”

“Shut up.” I waved Ben away and he evaporated, making me exhale a sigh of relief. I grabbed the two coffees and donuts and brought them into the circle of rehab-esque chairs. I placed Y/n’s in the seat next to mine This meeting was already off to a great start. I just hoped that now that I had a friend, these sessions and my coffee would be a whole lot sweeter.

-

“Klaus?”

I heard my name and snapped out of the place in my mind I hadn’t realized I slipped into. The counselor was looking at me expectantly, while the rest of the circle seemed bored. They were nice people for the most part, but the way that all of them were looking at me made my skin crawl like I was covered in a hundred spiders.

“Huh?” I sat my posture up straighter once I noticed Y/n’s eyes were on me too. I quickly looked away from her and crossed my legs as if I was making myself decent.

“What’s a victory you’ve experienced this week?”

The ticking of the clock and the buzzing of the dying lights were too loud in the otherwise quiet room. It felt like they were playing the jeopardy song, or the one they play at award shows when the speech was lasting just a little too long. I swallowed and started to fidget in the chair that somehow felt increasingly less comfortable with the feeling of a dozen eyes staring into me.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

I looked over at Y/n. She smiled softly and I looked away again, debating whether or not to be honest about what I’ve actually done right… which wasn’t a lot if I was being honest with myself.

“Uh…” I started to pick anxiously at my painted fingernails, black varnish chipping away to reveal the damaged claws I sported underneath them. “No one here’s a… cop or anything?” I finally asked with mild hesitation, the question burning in my throat like the liquor. But I hadn’t had a drink in weeks, so the feeling was almost welcomed as it warmed me.

“Um… no.” The counselor responded, leaning back into his chair, hiding obvious concern behind a mask of unbias. 

Tick, Tick, Tick.

“I’m…” I swallowed and looked to Y/n, and back to the once perfect manicure that was now decomposed like the people all of us were here for. The people that followed me everywhere.. “I got clean.” I said awkwardly.

The room was still silent, besides the goddamn clock. With each tick it drummed, it was getting harder and harder to repress the urge and rip it off the wall. Their eyes burned on my body and my skin continued to crawl. I couldn’t figure out why, I welcomed attention any other day, and I was always so unapologetic. What’s different today? Were the lights always this fucking bright?

Tick, Tick, Tick.

“Clean?” A different voice spoke up. I looked up and it was some old lady that I forgot was here at all. I rolled my eyes at the sound of her words. “You mean like a shower?”

“It means I’m off drugs Sharon, mind your damn business.” I scoffed. Y/n snorted but quickly hid behind her knuckles to avoid getting a lecture. I didn’t bother.

“Klaus-” The counselor sighed, putting his hand up. He hesitated with a sigh and slowly set it back down, evidentially deciding that now wasn’t the time to scold me. “That’s a fantastic achievement. We’re all very proud of you.”

“My name is Deborah!” Sharon squawked, making me groan, “You shouldn’t do drugs. We should have you arrested for possession!”

“What part of ‘I’m off drugs, mind your damn business don’t you understand?” I spat, feeling the patience that I didn’t have pouring out of me like steam from my ears. I sunk down into the uncomfortable chair and crossed my arms over my chest in defense. “We’re here to talk about your dead husband, not for your narcissistic opinions” I mumbled, ”You’re not that interesting.”

“Klaus!” I was scolded. 

“What was his name?” I continued. “Arthur?”

A silence swept over the room. It was like I could physically feel all of their buttholes tighten.

“I… I never said his name.” Sharon whispered. 

She didn’t have to. He told me himself.

“Klaus,” I heard Y/n whisper, her hand brushing my arm.

“Those are lovely earrings there, Sharon, are those real diamonds?” I stood up and brushed away Y/n’s hand, taking steps towards the old woman across the circle from me. “Did you buy those before or after you inherited all of poor Arthurs money?”

“I-”

“I don’t think you care as much as you say you do, not with that brand new Tesla you got parked outside.” I gestured out towards the middle, standing in the middle of the circle like it was a performance. But based off of the crowd’s reaction, they weren’t interested in an encore, and the tomatoes would come out at any second.

“Klaus I think you need to go take a breather.” The counselor practically begged. If he was cuter, there was a chance I would have enjoyed it.

“How’s the poolboy doing?”

“How the hell do you know-”

“Get out, Klaus, go get some air. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I’m not nine, Doctor!” I pivoted quickly over my shoulder and took a step closer towards the exhausted man. “If that even is your real name.”

I stopped off towards the exit and let the door slam shut behind me.

Fine! You win! Show over, no encore!

I reached the outside of the clinic and greeted the cold empty feeling of the harsh weather like I did death; like an old friend. Despite the harsh contrast to the temperature inside the clinic, my skin felt like it was on fire. I dug around in my pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, sliding a stick out and put it in my mouth. I pinched it with my teeth as I dug around more for my lighter. 

My lighter… my lighter… no, that’s my wallet… shit. I swore internally when I couldn’t find it. I groaned breathily and sunk back against the spiky stone wall, crossing my arms over my chest and letting my eyes closed. I held the cancer between my teeth, unlit and without its ability to kill me. It’s poetic, really. If only I did it on purpose. 

“Very smooth, Klaus,” That familiar voice of my ghost-bitch of a brother, that familiar power drill in my brain spoke up. “There’s no way she’ll be able to resist you now!”

“Fuck off,” I grinded my teeth and flattened the butt of the cigarette.

“Excuse me?” Y/n spoke, I jumped out of my skin, pressing my palms tightly against the wall for stability, not caring that the stones hurt the words tattooed across my skin. I let out a relieved sigh, realizing it was only her. I stood up straighter, and recrossed my arms. She scares me a lot, I’ve noticed. I suppose that’s a relief, though, because I’m usually the one scaring people.

“Sorry,” I cringed, “That wasn’t towards you!”

A smile flickered at the ends of her lips, though she didn’t seem at all bothered by my outburst in the first place. Her lined eyes looked curiously towards the unburning cigarette then back to my also lined eyes with a cocked eyebrow.

“It’s a metaphor,” I laughed humorlessly, taking my eyes away from her and landing them on the busy road in front of us. Cars were driving by, their windshield wipers on full speed to mop up the tears falling from the clouds. It was foggy and it was cold, and I could relate. I felt Y/n roll her eyes.

“What happened back there?” She leaned next to me on the wall and looked where mine looked.

I laughed bitterly, “Did Doctor Sideburns send you to check up on me.”

I could see her looking at me through my peripherals but I didn’t look back.

“I came on my own. What happened?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “You got a light?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to smoke here,” She said with a sigh, a juxtaposition to the way she dug into her purse and pulled out a lighter like I had asked. It was cool, it had a Ouija board engraved on its metal. That was a cool coincidence compared to the occult tattoos on my hands and the planchette I wore around my neck. Hell, I was dodging her question, but maybe if I answered it she wouldn’t think I was as crazy as I was. Maybe. “Not within 20 feet of the door?”

“That’s for hospitals,” I clarified, holding the cig and leaning in for her to light me. It turned to ember and she pulled away, I inhaled slowly, and let it fall back out as I continued to talk. “Trust me, I have a lot of knowledge on the subject. I’m in and out of those things a lot.” I admitted, blowing the rest of the smoke out of my lungs. I pulled the pack back out and held it out towards her. “Want one?”

“I don’t smoke.” She denied. I furrowed my eyebrows and put the pack back in my pocket. 

“You don’t smoke but you carry a lighter?” I laughed, hitting it again. “Just tryna do some population control?”

It was a joke but she didn’t laugh, she just crossed her arms and let her head rest against the wall.

“The lighter was my sisters.”

Fuck.

“Oh…” I debated whether I should apologize, back pedal, or throw my cigarette at her as a diversion and run away and start a new life as a monk. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

She sighed and smiled a tired smile. She rolled her head over her shoulder to look at me. “Well, that’s why we’re here aren’t we?” She pushed off the wall and walked towards the edge of the sidewalk. “We’re all grieving… even Sharon.”

I popped my eyebrows and followed her path. “I disagree. So does her husband.”

She narrowed her eyebrows and her mouth was agape as she searched around for the right words. Yeah, I tend to do that to people. Make them speechless.

“About that…” She swallowed and shook her head, looking up at me with the eyes of a concerned puppy. “How did you know all of that stuff?”

I pulled my lips into a line, “…Would you believe me if I said I guessed?”

“I might have if you didn’t start that sentence with ‘would you believe me if’.”

I sighed and let my eyes wander back to my brother who never seems to go away. He was thinking hard about it, too. His hands were shoved deep down into the pockets of that stupid leather jacket. It was stupid but I never told him that because I knew he cant change clothes in the afterlife. Seems like a BS deal, but whatever I guess. Eventually I said fuck it, might as well come clean about this too.

“Have you ever heard someone by the name… Reginald Hargreeves?” I mumbled out in my story telling voice, like I was an old woman ready to spin a yarn about a tale Y/n shan’t soon forget. “Just died? Wears a monocle? Looks like the monopoly guy?”

She blinked, “I know the name…. He was rich… that’s basically it.”

“Well, that’s my dear old dad.” 

Her eyes widened. She didn’t say anything at first, but eventually she asked, “Are you rich too?”

“God, no,” I laughed at the implication that that old bastard would give anything to my name at all after he kicked it. “He was many things, but generous was not one of them. Or being a good father at all really.”

“Oh.”

“Anyways, he adopted me and six other cum shots and he called us the Umbrella Academy.”

She stopped me by putting her hand up, like our counselor had done when he too wanted me to shut up. “Not that I’m not loving this autobiography, but you’re not really answering my question.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, and then I bit the bullet. 

“I can see ghosts.”

Her eyes widened, “Y-You…You can see what now?”

“All of my siblings have powers too…” I looked to Ben, then quickly back to her. “But I’m the one with the sixth sense in this story.”

She didn’t respond. She just opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish

“Not what you were expecting?” I offered.

“Uh… no,” She accepted my lead for a train of thought. “I thought you were just gonna say you stalked them or some shit!”

“You thought I was a stalker and you still came to check on me?”

“We’re friends, Casper.” She chucked, rubbing her jaw with her hand, “At least I’d like to think so.”

“I’m alive, I wanna make that abundantly clear. Casper is my brother.”

She laughed, so I added a quick, “I’m serious.”

Her eyes widened, “Your brother’s a ghost?”

“I… yeah. He’s a ghost.”

“Is he…” She looked next to her and by some miraculous coincidence, she was looking right into his eyes.

“You’re looking at him…” I offered. “His name is Ben.”

“Ben…” She swallowed and quickly stood up straighter like she was making a first impression. Little did she know, Ben knew her as well as I did. I saw my brother’s light up at the acknowledgement from someone that wasn’t me. He always complained that he couldn’t talk to anyone else, though I considered myself a joy to be around. “It’s… It’s nice to meet you.”

I squinted, “Wait, you actually believe me? Just like that?”

She shrugged, “Shouldn’t I?”

“No. I mean yeah, you should!” I rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m just… used to people… not.”

She scrunched up her face, clearly deep in thought. I narrowed my eyes as she did.

“What’s up?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek and tugged on the sleeve of her black, fitted sweater.

“I have a question… forgive me if I’m being insensitive…” She backtracked before she even went forward. I gestured with my hand for her to continue. “If you can see ghosts… Why do you go to grief counselling? Can’t you see them whenever you want to?”

I sighed. I wish it was that simple.

“I can’t when I’m high, or-or drunk… Which is why I was always high or drunk,” I laughed humorlessly, blinking rapidly to hide the emotion. “It was the only way I could shut them up.” I swallowed and looked down at my hands. The tattoos, Hello and Goodbye. I got it as a joke, to mock the torture I’ve been put through my whole life that the whole world insisted was a gift. I shoved them into my pockets when I felt the pressure of tears build behind my eyes.

She blinked, “You’re clean now…”

“Then, in theory, yeah, I should be able to see whoever…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and sighed shakily. “But if they don’t want to be seen… they won’t be.”

She didn’t respond. She looked guilty, but I didn’t want her to be so I continued.

“I feel like I’m grieving twice, you know?” I shook my head and swallowed again. “I mean he died… but he doesn’t want to see me, either.”

She sighed and took a step towards me,“…Did you ever think about why?”

I narrowed my eyes, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well if you saw him… would you ever really be able to move on?” She said slowly, somehow both walking on eggshells and telling me the hard truth at the same time. She hesitated before placing a gentle hand on my bicep. She gave it a soft squeeze, and I could feel her warmth and kindness shoot through my body like she was a drug I had injected. “I didn’t know him… but if it was me… That’s what I would want for someone I love… To move on.” 

To move on.

“God, I’m sorry,” She pulled off of me entirely and I missed her touch as soon as it was gone. Maybe she was a drug. I’ve never gotten addicted to anything this quickly that wasn’t a narcotic. “This really isn’t my place.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I assured her, “I guess… I just never thought about it that way.”

She swallowed and shook her head, “Can I… hug you?”

I laughed, wiping away the tears that formed just below my eyes, “Please do.”

Immediately, her hands wrapped around my body. One traced its nails gracefully across my back like a figure skater over ice, while the other tangled itself into my curls and tucked my head into her shoulder. I exhaled shakily, tears wetting the fabric of her shirt, wrapping my arms around her too. 

“It’s okay,” She whispered, petting my head that nuzzled into her. I breathed in her smell and I soaked in her kindness, an intention and a touch I haven’t experienced in so long. She smelled warm despite the coldness of the world around us, and it made me feel the same way I did when I was a kid and smelled my mom making cookies. That same serotonin, that same feeling of love. I didn’t love her, but if she kept this up, I knew that I could.

“I’m sorry about… David.” She whispered softly. I sighed.

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

The hug felt like an eternity, but an eternity that I could get used to. Eventually she pulled away and patted me on the shoulder. I tried to mask the disappointment I felt.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“What?” I wiped away the tears that never seemed to fully go away. “Don’t you need to go back in?”

“Klaus, you are so much more interesting than anything happening in there.”

-

“This place is a literal mansion! You’re telling me you live here?”

Y/n looked like a kid in a candy shop. She hadn’t even breached the entrance but her eyes immediately drew up to the high ceilings and polished exterior. There were statues of lions and potted plants, it looked much kinder from the outside, as most things (and people) do. I’ve never seen someone so happy inside this place besides mom. And then again, she was a literal robot.

“Yeah, I moved back in after daddy kicked the bucket.”

“That’s so cool!” She smiled, tucking her hands behind her back. I moved forward and opened the door wider, “You have all of this for yourself?”

“Well, not exactly.” I twisted my hand around the round doorknob, “Do you wanna come inside?”

“Only if you’re on the pill,” Y/n joked with a wink and walked perkily inside.

“Ah, sex jokes, that’s fun.”

She knew her audience.

The tour went rather quickly because I wasn’t exactly planning on having her come inside in the first place. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying her company, her’s has been my favorite in years…But I was a little embarrassed by this place, by this family. She didn’t need to see action figures of me, or the renaissance painting of me in spandex and a domino mask. Besides, even though it looks like a mansion, it’s really just an entire block of buildings that my dad bought with the walls that separated them knocked down. Not all of it was remodeled, either. She didn’t need to see our 1980’s laundromat.

So we finished the tour in my bedroom.

“This is very… you,” She commented as soon as the door was opened. 

“It’s where the magic happens,” I greeted her into my humble abode. She wasn’t wrong, it was very me… but only select portions of me. There were hippie rugs and psychedelic paintings, speakers, books, and fairy lights strung daintily across the walls. It didn’t show the bad parts of me. It was all nice… so it was nice to show people. It showed that maybe I wasn’t always so trashy… even though that would be a lie.

“And by magic you mean… sex with ghosts?” She asked with raised eyebrows and a coy smile, going in and touching everything like an annoying sibling would. If it was my sibling, it might have bothered me. But since it was her, I didn’t mind much.

“No, sex and ghosts. Never together… well-”

“What’s this?” She interrupted what ever thought that was gonna be, probably smartly so. She dragged her fingertips across the paintings hung on the wall, the ones with my chicken scratch signature on the bottom corner. “You’re an artist?”

“I dabble. I’m a dabbler,” I leaned lazily onto my bookshelf and accidentally knocking over the empty bottle of brandy that I insisted to my family was a cute decoration. 

“What’s the writing?”

I tensed up. Okay, I lied. Maybe this room showed some of the bad things.

“Uh…” I tucked my hands awkwardly behind my back, “You can read it if you want.”

She already was. She glided past the wall as she scanned and she casually climbed on top of my bed to read the ones in the corner as if she didn’t notice the furniture at all. But then she stopped. She was facing the wall so I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel the look she wore on it.

“Which one is it?” I asked quietly. She cleared her throat.

“There was a time when the word for love was nothing more than a growl, a sigh, a long look at a red light… And now, love is loud… and god is an old acquaintance.”

Her voice trailed away and left complete silence, other than the quiet humming of the radiator.

“Right…” I mumbled, fiddling my fingers against a loose string from my pants because I couldn’t think of how else to use my hands.

I debated telling her just how true that last sentiment was, but eventually decided against it. The story of how I died at a furry rave and met God, who turned out to be a little girl on a cute little bike, seemed to be a story left for a later date. Besides, the phrase God is an old acquaintance is much more poetic as a metaphor.

She kept reading aloud, but her articulation was becoming less accurate with each word. It was making me anxious. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“You’ve been here…but everything’s different, yet it’s all the same… are… are these coming from you, or…”

“Or the ghosts?” I offered.

“Yeah,” She turned over her shoulder and looked at me sadly, sad even told her the truth. It was like she already knew.

“Both…” I admitted with a sigh, moving closer to her and rereading some of the scrawl, something I haven’t done in a while. “A lot of it is me… but I write what I hear too, and god, they can be way too fucking loud sometimes.”

She blinked. 

“Are they always talking?” she asked, her voice suddenly lower than a whisper, like she was worried about any company that might hear.

“Usually… maybe not always.”

“That’s…” She swallowed and shook her head, “Awful.”

“It is what it is.”

I didn’t want her pity, but I didn’t want to lose her warmth. The latter was something that, unlike the Lord Herself, I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting until now.

I watched her eyes as they continued to read my diary on the wall, and they stopped on one. They were worried and apologetic, and staring at one written in bold.

‘Where the fire burns, so do I. Feel the pain electrify me, you cannot kill the willing to die.’

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Just the radiator, and the buzzing of the lightbulbs that threatened to burn out in the same way I did.

“Would.. would it be okay if I hugged you?” She asked softly, I looked down at her. She was giving me puppy eyes, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself that she was the one begging to give me the affection that I’ve been deprived of.

“If you touch me I might fall in love with you but I’m okay with it if you are,” It was a joke, but she didn’t laugh.

“I’m okay with it.” She quickly strung her arms around me like she was the fairy lights that lit up my room, lighting me up just the same. I exhaled as I melted into her as easy as putty, and she squeezed me more firmly like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Neither of us minded. We stayed there for another eternity, but I quickly learned after a day of laughing, tears, and overdue hugs, I wouldn’t mind an eternity with her. I blinked my eyes and accidentally forced tears that I didn’t notice from my eyes, wetting the spot on her shirt that was barely dry from the last time I cried there on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, attempting to pull away when all of my instincts begged me to stay. Luckily for them, she just held me tighter. This time, she was looking at me more directly. Looking through the layer of tears, it felt like I was looking at her through a kaleidoscope.

“Don’t apologize, Klaus,” Her soft hands cupped the sides of my face, her thumbs mimicking the windshield wipers on the cars outside. I blinked slowly, and suddenly I was able to see her clearly again. I widened my eyes ever so slightly when she leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to my cheek. “It’s okay.”

As if it was an instinct, I leaned in too and kissed the corner of her mouth.

Then she kissed me for real. It was like lightning, it was gone just as fast as it came, but it left me in electric awe despite its brevity. She jumped quickly away from the shock and so did I, as if we were both surprised by what happened. But in reality, I had been praying to that little girl on the bike that this would happen. Maybe she liked me more than she claimed she did. Y/n just looked at me, and I looked back, but then I felt a switch flip in my brain. I moved forward and I kissed her again, eager and hungry like I had been starving. She gave me a taste, and I needed more. But this time, it felt like I was drowning in the best possible way. The way her tongue danced with my own pulled me under the dangerous waves, but that was when I could finally breathe. My hands were cupping her jaw, and I moved my mouth against her purposefully. She gasped against me and I couldn’t help but smile. She threw her hands into my messy hair and tugged purposefully at the roots, forcing a moan out from the back of my throat and I was positive she could taste it, and swallowed that pleasure whole. My hand moved down her throat with feather light touch, and then down her body with the backside of my knuckles.

“Is this what you want?” She asked through labored breaths once she finally pulled away. Her hands had already started to pull her shirt up off her body, but she stopped once that piece of hesitation burrowed into her mind. She looked up at me with raised eyebrows. I immediately nodded and grabbed her shirt to take it off myself.

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” I promised with a soft smile, pulling her shirt all the way off and throwing it somewhere unbeknownst. I checked in that general direction to make sure there were no dead voyeurists in the room. Ben was already on the way out no doubt with his eyes rolling back into his ghost brain. Still, for dramatic effect, I called after him, “Might wanna get out of here, Ben, this could get messy.”

“Lay down for me, okay?” She asked, reattaching her hands to my face and looking up at me through batted lashes. I complied immediately which was rare, but something about the way she was taking care of me made me too grateful to be my bratty self. I lowered onto my back, and she found her reserved spot straddling my hips.

“Such a good boy for me, Klaus, I wasn’t expecting that,” She laughed breathily against my jaw, her hands exploring my body like it was hers.

“Yeah, me neither,” I couldn’t help but admire the way she looked stacked on top of me, wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of tartan pants that I will totally try to steal once we get dressed again. 

“Comfy?” She asked softly, I hummed in response. “Good. I’m gonna take good care of you. I want this off, please.”

I sat myself up just enough to pull my black shirt off over my head. A metal pendant fell back against my bare chest. The dog tag.

KATZ, DAVID

I forgot how to move, as if I was frozen in time. My breath and hands both shook like they were about to crumble. Do I take it off? Do I leave it on? Either way it felt wrong. When I came home after Dave died, he had been gone for half a century, but his body was still practically warm thanks to the confusing power of time travel. We were literally in the midst of a war, but somehow the world felt colder now. Grayer now that he was gone. What Y/n made me feel was wrong, but what was worse was just how bad I wanted her in return. If I didn’t then she would be gone…but I wanted her so fucking bad.

“We don’t have to do anything… Klaus,” She carefully started to pick herself off me again, “I promise. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I want to… believe me, I do,” I promised her truthfully. My hands grasped the metal tightly, I looked down at them with saddened eyes and shook my head. “I-I just… I don’t know what to do.”

Her small hand found its place on my forearm, and she wore a comforting smile on her face. I relaxed just a bit underneath her touch.

“You can leave them on, if you need to… Or we can just cuddle, or I could go home if you want to be alone.” Her hand slid up my arm and landed on the hand that held the tag. She rubbed the pad of her thumb delicately over my knuckles. I sighed an exhale of comfort and relief, feeling the anxiety leave my body. “What do you think?”

“I want this, Y/n, I want you,” I promised, “And I want you… to take my pants off.”

She chuckled, “You sure?” She wore a lazy, amused smile on her face, but let her other hand travel down to the tattoo on my abs. She drummed her fingers against it and it made me laugh

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, am I right?” I placed my hands on her hips and started to guide her back on top of me.

“You are neither a horse or a cowboy,” she smiled, stabilizing herself and folding over so her face was just inches away from mine. Her breath was minty and cold against my face

“Maybe in another life.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. She connected her lips to mine again with her hands tickling stripes up and down the sides of my torso. She was sweet and warm like the refreshments that first brought us together, but somehow she tasted even better. I sighed contently when she pulled my lower lip in between her teeth and bit down enough to draw a pathetic mewl out from within me. My shaky arms creeped slowly around her and touched my fingers to the clasp of her bra. I struggled for just a second, but quickly snapped it open and slid the fabric off her body. She sighed against my mouth when I took her bare chest in my calloused hands and started to massage. She released my lips and started to move down, marking a path of wet kisses down the long expanse of my neck and chest. My eyes widened when her lips started to mark the V on my abdomen that pointed to where I wanted her most.

I sighed and tucked my arm behind my head as her fingernails tucked under the fabric of my black leather pants. She pulled them down to my thighs, but she didn’t bother removing my boxers before she kissed my bulge through the thin fabric.

“Fuck,” I whispered quietly at the semblance of stimulation.

“So responsive already, baby, I like that,” she praised, quickly slipping me out of my underwear and letting my painfully hard cock spring free. Her fingers traced feather light touch along my shaft, almost as if she was trying to tickle me. If she was, it was working and I was already subtly contorting underneath her puppeteering, her actions tugging at my body with invisible strings. 

“Feels so good-Ah!” I swore at the feeling over her palm wrapping firmly around me with her thumb swiping away the beads of precum from my head.

“I bet I could make you feel even better, huh?” She asked cockily (pun intended), lazily pumping my cock up and down and flicking her wrist as she reached the top. Her hand was warm and soft against my hot, swollen skin. I felt my eyes want to roll back into my head, but I still had enough focus to tease her, because that’s what I do best.

“I’ll believe it-Mmm- when I feel it,” I teased through stutters that we both ignored despite noticing. “Put it in your mouth.”

“It’s cute that you’re calling the shots,” She laughed, crawling forward so her mouth was hovering over me. My breath hitched from the anticipation. She certainly had a flair for the dramatic. Maybe that’s why we got along so quickly. 

“Big talk for someone doing exactly what I ask,” So much for being obedient. 

She rolled her eyes and licked a long, slow stripe up my shaft. I shakily exhaled and deeper into the mattress. She wrapped her lips around my head and she slowly started to suck. Her licked my slit and I threw my arm across my mouth to bury my cries into my flushed skin, while my other hand gripped the unmade sheets until my veins were bulging out from my skin like the lightning bolts from before. Slowly, she accepted more of me into my mouth and I instinctively bucked my hips to feel more of her, but then she used her hands to pin me back down to the mattress. She popped off of me with the sound of the onomatopoeia and looked at me with smiling, swollen lips.

“I’m in charge here, Sixth Sense,” She slid my pants and underwear all the way off my legs and discarded them somewhere on the floor, leaving me completely bare (and rock hard) under her control. “You just lie back, and watch me.”

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. I wouldn’t wanna look anywhere else.”

She smiled and moved back to her position nestled in between my legs. I moaned as she took all of me in her mouth again, and I mean all of me. She started to bob up and down my cock, and I was a moaning mess underneath her. Suddenly her hand grabbed mine and placed it purposefully in her hair, granting me the power that she swore I didn’t have, and I was immediately drunk on it. Well, drunk on power, and drunk on her.

She was intoxicating. I didn’t need drugs and alcohol for that.

“So good, baby, just like that,” I gripped the roots of her hair tightly and I started to guide her until she was gagging. Tears started to prick the corners of her eyes but her bruising grip on my hips showed her persistence. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes back into my head because I didn’t lie. She was far too pretty like this for me to look away.

Her guttural moans reverberated through my cock and the vibrations made me whimper. I felt myself getting closer to my release as the pressure built, my cock twitching in her mouth as I hit the back of her throat… but I want to finish somewhere else.

“Stop, stop,” I sat up and pulled her by her hair. Immediately, she backed off and looked at me expectantly and almost nervously. “I want you to ride me.”

She smiled brightly and started to shimmy out of her pants and lace. She climbed further up my body and hovered her face just above mine. Her eyes that were normally so bright, were dark and stormy in the best possible way, I knew that she was craving me in the same way I was craving her. She gave me the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen and I almost forgot what we were doing, then she leaned down to press a warm, hungry kiss to my lips.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” She mumbled as her hand disappeared to the valley in between our naked bodies. I inhaled sharply at the feeling of her lining me up with her hole and slowly sinking down on me. Her lips parted against mine as she gasped at the feeling of me stretching her out, I tasted that cry and I swallowed it whole.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” My voice was strained and so was my focus as she pulsed around me. Her fingers wound up my torso like poison ivy, and as if she was the villain herself, I felt myself oh so eager to please her. Finally I let my eyes close as her touch overcame all of my senses, it was easy for her to consume me, and I was so willing to let her. If I was moaning or swearing, I couldn’t even hear myself. All there was was her.

She sat up as she moved faster, her hands pressing against my chest for stability when she lost her sea-legs. But still, she slid off of me, and all the way back down, forcing pathetic cries out from my lips. She looked like a painting on top of me, a masterpiece as she bounced up and down on top of me. Her breasts were exposed like someone biblical, and I felt like a horny teenage boy again as I ogled them moving up and down with the rest of her. I was a contortionist underneath her, and the smile on her face proved that she was enjoying the show.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Klaus,” She said, her voice strained but still powerful and commanding as she knew I loved the praise.

“Choke me,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut like the wings of a tired butterfly.

“What?’

“Choke me, Y/n, please,” I was pleading desperately, and when I opened my eyes she seemed to be unsure. But she nodded, snaking her hands up my chest and wrapping around my throat. She expertly squeezed the sides to cut off the blood to my brain, without cutting off my airflow. I gasped under her grip and felt my eyes roll back in by head. All the whimpers and begs that I wanted to say died there at her fingertips, so I swallowed them instead.

In the moment of overwhelming ecstasy, I grabbed her hips and thrusted up into her. She cried out and let her head throw back, punctuating each thrust against that sensitive spot within her with staggered whimpers and cries that continued to be the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard.

Hot tears that I hadn’t noticed started to slip down my cheeks in streaks as the world started to feel too overwhelming. But still, I just wanted to thank her. I was sobbing pathetically as I fucked her, but I wanted to thank her because as the pressure started to break me, I could feel myself glowing in between the cracks.

“I’m so close,” I whispered through her strangulation, but it was mostly for myself. I grabbed the necklace around my throat and held it there tighter when her pressure fell through, fucking up into her like a desperate man and whimpering out just the same.

“Me too, baby,” She returned, removing her hand from my neck completely and attaching them to my cheeks instead. I gasped at my newfound ability to breathe, and although I expected to feel disappointed, her comforting touch felt even better than my near approaching release. She wiped my tears away in the same way she had so many times before, so many times today. I held her hands there as my thrusts grew staggered, squeezing my eyes shut and twitching inside her. Her walls started to pulse around me as she grew closer too and I moaned desperately at the feeling.

“Come for me, baby, I know you can do it,” she commanded, and she was far too convincing for me to disobey. 

I threw my head back into the pillows and dug my fingers into her hips hard enough to bruise. I was a contorting mess of moans and cries as the build up of pressure finally released and filled her with my warmth. But somehow, the moans that left her mouth as she released on my cock felt even better. It was a symphony, and although I was never a fan of classical music, part of me was throwing roses on the stage and begging for an encore.

It felt like I died and went to heaven, but if this was what heaven was like, maybe I never would have come back. But this, this was so much better.

Y/n slumped over as her guttural breathing tried to even out. Her sweaty forehead was pressed against mine, and when her bright eyes finally opened, I was already looking. She smiled almost shyly, something such a shocking contrast from the power she had before. She slipped herself off of me, and she sat down on my thighs. She leaned forward and slipped her arms under the arch of my back, and she held me so warmly and delicately. I sat up and wrapped my arms around her in the same way, breathing in the smell of her pheromones and feeling myself relax even more. I was melting into her body, and her fingers played with the messy curls on the top of my head. The comforting touch that I’d been deprived of my whole life, all suddenly catching up to me on a single day. 

We sat there for a few minutes, skin against skin, foreheads together, occasional soft kisses on each other’s faces. 

“Can you stay with me tonight?” I mumbled, moving to bury my face into her shoulder to hide away from the anticipation of possible rejection. But somehow without seeing it, I could feel her smile. She pressed a kiss to my flushed forehead, and nestled back into me.

“As if you could get rid of me that easy.”


End file.
